Looking down through a tide of no return,

is a field where the crops no longer grow.

Parched is the land; strangled and bedamned,

There,

for the grace of God,

go I...

Down beside where the riverbed sleeps,

is a man, not knowin' what he should feel...

Mocked by the wave, that beats the water's edge,

There,

for the grace of God,

go I.

If I ever hurt another like thee again,

I will drown myself beneath your name...

Lost was the child, we all once did hide,

There,

for the grace of God,

go I.